#omnia studios

[thegothicalice]

Vamp 🖤Tried for heatless curls for volume again, and seeing The Cabinet of Dr Caligari on the big screen with live score tonight ⚰️

#ootd #vampire fashion #nightgown #bolero #Mary Janes #romantic goth #Omnia studios #ootd video

[queenofpatterns]

Crossed Athame Dagger Brooch by Omnia Studios

#Brooch #broche #Omnia Studios

[my-emily-gilmore-era]

Carole Bishop, aka Kelly Bishop at Luigi’s Dance Studio, NYC, circa mid 1960’s.

Yes, that’s THE Emily Gilmore.

#Kelly Bishop #Emily Gilmore #gilmore girls #dirty dancing #bunheads #a chorus line #mrs maisel #@my.emily.gilmore.era #Luigi’s Dance Studio #broadway #stars hollow #in omnia paratus

[randombush3]

labor omnia vincit

alexia putellas x reader

words: 7538

summary: well, it’s how you meet your wife (posh + becks style)

content warnings: a little bit of drugs and alcohol

notes: HEY HEY HEYY. this is a TRILOGY and here’s the first part. enjoy the build up x

2015. London. 

You groan at the thought of singing another word. The mug set haphazardly on the ledge reserved more for instruments than crockery, half in the air after the last time you returned it to its place, is now empty. There is no hot water left to soothe your burning throat, and there is no patience remaining in your finite store. 

The girls, on the other hand, seem to soldier on. A harmony is incorrect? They sing it again. The producer, a fat old man called Dave whose taste in music might rely on his taste in women, isn’t a fan of a certain beat? They are thinking of ways to change it. 

Ever since your single was released two years ago, this has been your life. Or, at least, the less glamorous side of it. The other side, consisting of sold-out arenas, exclusive clubs, and a world tour that only increased your total domination over the music industry, has been paused while you and the girls slave away on the second album. Apparently, you’re being uncooperative. You would call it boredom. 

“It’s four in the morning, Dave,” Anya states, jabbing out her index finger towards his Rolex, paid for with the revenue from the last single you released. It topped the charts for days. Dave glances down at the clock face with a grunt. “Look, Y/n’s already left us and gone to bed.” 

“Still here,” you murmur, rather unconvincingly, from your spot on the far-too-comfortable sofa behind the mixing desk. Sprawling out even further, you wrap your legs around the third member of your group, Gio. She squeals as you pull her on top of you. “I want to go home, though.” 

“Don’t we all know it,” Gio giggles. She’s had at least six cups of coffee since you arrived at the studio for the second recording session of the day – a solid nine hours ago. That was only after a break for a late lunch or early dinner (whichever your dietician preferred to call it). 

“We need to finish.” 

“I need to sleep,” you reply. Gio scrambles off you in time to avoid the glare you are sent by your producer. “And I’m not sleeping here again. Last time it gave me a crick in my neck and I’m fairly sure the cleaner felt me up.” 

“The sexy cleaner is mine,” Anya declares, jerking you upright. Your stomach lurches with emptiness. “Otherwise, I agree. Let us fuck off home. Please, Dave.” 

He looks at the three of you, bags under your eyes, making long rubbed off (or cried away, in Gio’s earlier over-emotional state). You have changed out of the outfit the paparazzi pictured you in earlier, opting for the stained, grey joggers you folded away in your Birkin. Anya and Gio snuck in so that they weren’t caught in their pyjamas. 

Dave sighs. 

“Tomorrow, don’t go for lunch with any of your silly boyfriends. Come here for noon, and we’ll finish when we finish. We’re getting this album done, and you can’t fire me until it’s out.” 

His sense of humour is appreciated, even if his work ethic is not, and you practically bolt out of the studio, friends in tow. 

Anya grabs your hand as you rush down the corridor, making your way to the exit. “No lunch with your boyfriend,” she repeats Dave’s words, mocking his gristly voice. You roll your eyes, snatching your hand away from your friend before pushing open the back door of the studio, heading towards your new BMW i8. 

You have been friends with Anya Kazi and Giovanna Bartoli since the age of two, meeting them on the first day of nursery, specifically after cutting one of Gio’s ringlets off with safety scissors. Though Anya happily clapped along, she did not defend you, and so you went for her hair as well. Your teacher, hoping to quell the budding animosity, placed all three of you in time-out, where a united front was formed. It hasn’t been broken since that moment, though a few years ago, you were terrified it would be. You, with a well-concealed preference for women, however, have managed to keep your friends. They assured you that they 1) already knew and 2) could not care less. 

“You don’t even like cars,” Gio scoffs at the sight of your latest purchase, your last name printed proudly on the number plate. “Was this an ‘I’m famous’ buy or did your daddy get it for you?” 

“He emailed me a few recommendations,” you answer off-handedly, sliding into the driver’s seat, switching on the ignition. It growls with a mean, menacing precision, the engine’s quality known and heard. “And don’t pretend that your family doesn’t have a Roll-Royce parked in the driveway of their million-pound townhouse.” 

“You are just as much from Hampstead as I am, girl.” 

You roll your eyes, stifling a yawn. Anya pulls out in front of you, no doubt speeding off to avoid the boy-racers you and Gio become at this time of night. 

Your flat has progressed from that of the one you shared with the girls in Princess Park two years ago. It’s nicely decorated, you like to think, with most of the work being done to it while you were touring. 

The walls are hung with artwork; some your own, some not. The canvases and frames adorn every room, dictating the vibe, declaring your individuality to any visitors who choose to admire the paintings and sketches. Then, if they were to look at the shelves dotted around the space, they’d see books with matching themes to the art. Your living room has a print of Van Gogh’s ‘Starry Night’, blown up in a gilded frame, hanging above your green leather sofa, adding colour to the white walls, and then a bookshelf filled with navy-bound novels about whatever you fancy. You’re quite chuffed with the design, though it was really the interior designer you hired who came up with the idea. 

Without a second glance to any of the intricate details of your home, you stumble your way to the bathroom, going through the motions until it is time to get into bed. It’s a big bed – one that often feels too big for just one person – but the mattress is inviting and you dive into a deep sleep head-first, knowing you will not be getting up until someone calls you tomorrow morning. 

…

Barcelona, seven hours earlier. 

The bar is busy, as most are in Barcelona at this time of night, and the girls are out for dinner and a post-training drink. The wine glasses have deceived them all, though, because they have been emptied and refilled a few more times than Xavi would be impressed with. 

A young, budding star does not drink during the season, the alcohol drought both self-inflicted and encouraged by every coach who promises to take her far. Her eyeliner must be smudged by now, but Alexia can’t leave yet because Jenni has promised that she can stay over at her place and she needs her to take her back. 

The reason for her temporary relocation is that Alexia is fed-up with her mother’s pestering, seeing as it is only one week into the season and she is already being called a workaholic. She can’t stay in that house tonight, especially when her little sister is the complete opposite: sleeping with anyone who gives her a chance and never doing anything that will help her future. Eli Segura is baffled by the lack of balance in her life – two daughters, two extremes – but she is the most concerned with her eldest, angering Alexia to no end. 

Alexia is also fed-up with this conversation. It’s all the girls seem to be talking about these days, utterly consumed with this new English girl group just like the rest of the world. 2sday has completely taken over all interesting topics of discussion, and Alexia doesn’t think she can handle being asked which one of their songs she likes the most one more time. 

She likes them, she guesses, but so does everyone. Todo el mundo is in love with all three members. 

The girls are discussing who their favourite is. 

“She’s Italian though, and that’s cool of her,” Jenni argues, putting forward her case for Bartoli as if she chose to have parents from a certain country. Alexia hums in thought, thinking of the pictures she saw from the world tour – how long her legs are, tanned and sculpted and shown off nicely by the mini-skirt she wore. “Did you know that her little sister is a model? She’s called Cristina or something. The beauty is practically in her DNA.” 

“Aren’t all three of them models?” asks Marta pointedly, finger tapping the photoshoot on the magazine cover.

“Well, all three of them are sexy,” Jenni replies, remembering just how enamoured the world is with the three break-out stars. “Ale, which one is your favourite?” The magazine that had sparked this conversation is slid towards the twenty-one-year-old, and she looks at the picture on the front page: you, Gio, and Anya, all dressed in oversized suits with nothing underneath, hair slicked back and eyes piercing, ‘girl power’ brandished over the bottom of the photograph. 

“Y/n L/n,” Alexia answers easily, fascinated by the sculpture of your face. She thinks you are beautiful, in a less crass way than her teammates. “And you lot sound like men with the way you talk about them.” 

“Ooh, Alexia is getting all high-and-mighty,” Jenni teases. “Looks like it’s time to take the baby home.” 

“She’s cranky because she’s tired and it’s past her bedtime,” adds another teammate, though Alexia is too wound up to really care who. 

They all make little pouty faces at her as she finishes the last of her glass of water, the clear liquid standing out against the deep red of most of the table. Jenni rolls up the magazine and swats her shoulder with it, before handing it over to its owner and finally allowing Alexia her rest. 

In silence, they sit in her car – an old Ford in need of replacing but not on the footballer’s list of things she will buy with the money they are now getting. FC Barcelona Femení has become, at last, a fully professional team, and Alexia looks ahead to the future with a hopeful dream and the knowledge that she will need to work hard if she ever wishes to become the best. Jenni has become a good friend ever since she joined the club last year, and she brings a global ambition to the friendship that she knows Alexia does not have. Jenni is from Madrid, and plays for Barcelona because she can, not because it is her club. Her team is the same as her grandfather’s, and she often expresses to Alexia her wish to play for them someday, as well as scoring in every league she possibly can. Young Alexia Putellas has never once considered stepping foot outside of Spain. 

Not only that, but her father died three years ago and here, in Barcelona, is where she feels closest to him. She cannot fathom a life past the plazas and the cobbled streets of her home. And she’s glad. She’s safe here, and she needs nothing more than her team, her family, and a football at her feet.  What more could she possibly want? 

As she settles on Jenni’s sofa, blanket pulled over her body, head resting on a plump cushion that smells faintly of Jenni’s dog, Alexia decides to watch whatever is on TV right now. Jenni, in an attempt to learn English, has found an English news channel that seemingly reports on ‘exclusive’ celebrity news. There you are, plastered on the screen, your picture zoomed in to the point of the pixels blurring.

The woman speaking has a high-pitched and critical voice, saying words that Alexia does not hear. She stares at your picture, considering the life you have, imagining that, one day, footballers like her have the stardom of Beckham and Messi and Ibrahimovic. Though she herself does not crave that exposure, well aware of her shyness, she thinks about the future with a wistful sigh, lost in her dream as the English woman narrates what she can see, judging how you have opened your mouth to take a bite of the food, listing the brands you are wearing. 

And, in her weird, exhausted haze, she sees your face. It’s probably only because you’re on the screen and she’s staring at it, but you are there as she pictures the growth of women’s football. You’re there in the stands as she plays in front of a sold-out Camp Nou, cheering and singing along to Catalan chants she knows you’d never actually know in real life. Slowly, she falls asleep, and, just before she closes her eyes, you are there: back to her, dressed in a familiar shirt. Alexia. 11. Somewhere in a far-off fantasy land, Alexia Putellas marries you that night. 

…

It’s Sunday. 

You drive to your parents’ house in Hampstead, only twenty minutes away from the flat you now live in, to reluctantly attend their weekly Sunday Roast. Before, it was a condition of remaining on the booking list for the annual family holiday, seeing as you had declared university was going to wait until after your gap year and then had become a popstar instead. Now that both you and your brother can afford to come anyway, the tradition is there for sentimental value. A world tour made you realise how much you love them all, even your annoying older brother. 

Your parents are lawyers who met at university and found love in a city that they never moved out of, both of them doing extremely well for themselves. They raised you and your brother to ski, horse-ride, and attend prep schools and public schools, although boarding school was not quite desirable. Your dad speaks in a booming voice, received pronunciation an act used for court, slight Mancunian accent lilting his words whenever he relaxes. 

“Darling!” your mum exclaims, surprised at your attendance just like she is every week. “Come on in, come on in. Daddy has the footie on, and your brother is on his way. Don’t you have songs to sing? How come you’re here?” 

Ushered inside your own home, you smell the brief scent of your family before adjusting to it all and fitting right back into the chaos. There’s beef in the oven, and the roar of the crowd playing faintly from the kitchen where your dad must be preparing the potatoes. He’s proud of his potatoes. 

You slip off your shoes – a new pair of Uggs – and follow your mother to the kitchen. Dad is there, doing exactly what you’d expected, hands working instinctively as his eyes focus on the TV, mouthing along with the commentary as Manchester United take on their opponent. “Sit down,” Dad says as soon as you walk in, pointing at the stools tucked into the island. “We’re not doing too badly, and today should be an easy win.” 

“I know. I do watch the football without you, Daddy.” 

He tuts. “Yeah, but you don’t get the same level of commentary on your own. Plus, United isn’t even what I wanted to talk to you about. I have thought of a publicity move that you should definitely make – it would really help you guys out.” You entertain his suggestion, knowing that’s what dads do, sitting back on the stool with a smirk on your face, already thinking of an interesting way to tell him he is being stupid. “So, what I was thinking was that you guys do a half-time show! You love football, and the girls love footballers – what isn’t to like? Plus, I bet any club would jump at the chance to make some money from extra tickets sold just to see you.” 

“And you haven’t already contacted our manager?” you check, finding your father to be quite unpredictable and rash. His ego is also far too inflated by clients who don’t see him for the kind but bumbling fool he truly is, and so he often takes it upon himself to put forward any ideas he has to your management team, much to everyone’s inconvenience (the last thing they need, amongst sorting out photos of you snogging girls and your friends in various compromising positions, is an old man telling them what he thinks will boost your image). “It’s a good idea, I must admit. I’ll bring it up.” 

“Good stuff.” There’s a clang of metal as the potatoes go in the oven too, and the fridge opens with a pop as your dad begins to fish out the carrots and parsnips to complete your meal, Your mother is responsible for everything else. “Try to get it at Barcelona or Real Madrid,” he says off-handedly. “Imagine singing in the Nou Camp. That’d be crazy.” 

“Not the appearance I dreamt of when I was little, but I’d still get to touch the grass,” you agree. 

“Y/n, we knew you’d never be a footballer. You haven’t got the coordination for that.” They tried to support you, they really did, but then music lessons took over and the sport became a form of entertainment, not exercise. “Women’s football is really something, though. In twenty years, it’ll be good. Maybe you should invest.” 

“I know zero women’s footballers, apart from – what’s her name? Kelly Smith. The English one?” 

“The Arsenal player, yeah. It’s a shame we don’t have a proper women’s team.” 

“Should I fund one?” you joke, but his face lights up and he has taken you seriously. “Okay, I know we’ve been successful thus far, but we haven’t raked in that much. Who knows! It could all go to shit and I could end up right where I started, in my childhood bedroom with no degree and no choice but to mooch off my parents.” 

“I get the sense that you’re slightly stressed about this album,” Dad says slowly, smiling wide, proud to have worked you out. He has always been good at that; knowing what you are feeling. It is a wonderful trait for him to have, seeing as your mother struggles with emotional connection of any kind. She is too much of a corporate big-shot for that, anyway. 

“It’s killing me.” You sigh, slumping on the stool. “It’ll be released and then we’ll hop on tour and I’m so tired. Anya has a crush and Gio’s dating someone and now all of our songs are about love and I just… I don’t know about that. I don’t know if I will ever know about that.” 

And, though he hesitates, Dad walks around the island and places a hand on your shoulder, telling you that you will find the right man someday. 

Deep down, he knows that the daughter who loved to watch football and never once commented on their hairstyles or pretty faces – the girl whose crushes on members of boy bands always seemed half-hearted and forced – is not a daughter who is going to bring home a man one day, with a smile on her face and a ring on her finger. He knows. It is quite possible that he has always known. Whether he is going to bring it up before you feel comfortable to talk about it is a different matter, especially since your mother has dreams of her daughter’s husband that she has whispered to him ever since they found out their second child was a girl. 

Sunday is pretty routine, which you are grateful for. Your brother, also a lawyer, discusses his latest case, resembling the stories your father used to tell at the dining table: stories you’d both yawn at when you were younger. You dish out a few industry secrets, recounting your most recent trip to Cirque Le Soir. With disdain, your mother berates you for any possible drug-usage, scolding you for something you have not admitted to but somehow knowing that you are guilty of it anyway. It feels much like the family dinners of your teenage years, but you suppose that pop stars never really have to grow up and decide that it isn’t all bad. After all, you drive home in a very stylish car.

Then, the week starts with another gruelling, waste-of-time day at the studio, where you go inside before the sun comes up and emerge long after it has set. Dave is decently pleased with the vocals so far. There are another seven tracks to go, but most of those are being written by other people. Mark Ronson, you’ve heard, is open to working with your group. It’s all very exciting, even if you feel like you have run a marathon by the end of the day. 

On Tuesday, you remember to tell your manager and publicist (she’s a woman of many talents) about your father’s idea. At first, her reluctance is extremely evident, but it later dissipates once she thinks about it, having promised you and the now-excited girls to see what she can do. 

You are on a private plane to Barcelona before you can realise what is happening. 

Bags packed with more make-up and spangled underwear than proper clothes, and sunglasses shielding your hungover eyes courtesy of last night’s consoling of a newly-single Giovanna Bartoli, you try your best not to vomit while in the air and even squeeze in a spot of light reading. The girls laugh (wincing at the sound) when they see you revisiting the Aeneid. You like Virgil, though, so you don’t mind. 

“How many days are we here again?” Anya asks, equally hungover. 

“Three,” replies your manager, not bothering to look up from her laptop. “Today, tomorrow, and the day after. Please check if the players are married before you do anything with them.” 

“I’ve sworn off men,” mumbles Gio miserably. She stretches her legs out with a sniffle, and then draws them back in to protect her broken heart. “If I’d get off with any woman, I’d like her to be Spanish.” She clears her throat, the lump of tears disappearing as she retrieves her GCSE-level Español, giving it a shot. If not to be serious than to at least piss you off. “Hola. ¿Cómo estás? ¿Quieres dormir conmigo?”

“What? And then you’re going to shove your tongue down her throat?” Gio looks at you with a smirk. “That is not how you kiss a woman.” 

“Hey, you can’t keep them all to yourself!” 

You laugh, though your manager’s attention has been caught and she is already showing her disapproval. “It would be better that I did if that’s how you think it works.” 

“None of you are kissing women.” 

“That’s not fair,” Anya protests, upset that she didn’t even get to join in the conversation before it got shut down as swiftly as a rowdy houseparty in an American teen-movie. 

“I agree. That’s not fair on Y/n, who actually needs to kiss a woman so her knickers aren’t in a twist all the time.” 

“I’ll twist your knickers in a minute,” you threaten, fist raised to Gio in good humour.

“See what I mean? She needs to let off some steam.” 

“Well, do it discreetly if you must. Do your shows, go out with the players, and bring whoever into your bed as long as they have tight lips and no vendetta against you. Gio, we’re going to have to say something about him ch–”

You gulp, not wanting your friend to cry again. “Wow, the view is really nice,” you interrupt, catching Anya’s appreciative nod in the corner of your eye as you splay your palm on the glass of the aircraft’s window, marvelling at Barcelona’s plazas and cobbled streets. Imagine this being your home, you think to yourself. 

…

Jenni is squawking when Alexia makes her way into the circle of players during their drinks break. Alexia knows her friend is excited to go to the men’s game later on today, but she hadn’t realised it is to this extent until she gets grabbed by the forward and shaken as though she is a snowglobe. 

“I got the golden ticket,” Jenni shouts in her ear, making their teammates around them laugh. “Me, you, and Mario are going to the match tonight!” 

“I already knew that?” They don’t really get free tickets, but they can be heavily discounted. Tonight isn’t a super big deal, though Alexia may stand corrected. “Was I not supposed to know that?” 

“Of course she doesn’t know,” Mariona says, squirting some of her water at the midfielder. She recoils from the droplets, but they land on her training top anyway, and Alexia is already pissed off with the entire world. “Alexia, do you seriously live under a football-shaped rock?” 

Alexia takes a moment to brush off the teasing, picturing the bursting trophy cabinet that is almost within her grasp. “Yes, and it is very homely.” 

“Madre mía, you are one of a kind,” Jenni says with a sigh, movements less aggressive as she drapes an arm around Alexia’s shoulders. “Guess who’s singing at half-time tonight. You’re going to drool so much that the people below us will think it’s raining.” 

At this, Alexia knows exactly who Jenni is talking about, and she blushes though it could easily be mistaken for redness from exercising. 

“I just think she’s pretty,” comes Alexia’s slightly defensive reply. They walk to the middle of the training pitch, rejoining the team as Xavi explains a confusing drill. Neither really listen. 

“Is this your first celebrity crush?” Mariona jibes, overhearing the conversation and finding it necessary to join in. Any excuse to poke fun at the baby of the team. 

Jenni ruffles Alexia’s hair, ruining her neat ponytail. “Alexia’s in love with a straight girl,” she sings. 

It’s then that the whole team chooses to get involved, ears perking up at the mention of Alexia’s lovelife – a more or less forbidden topic. Their captain, Marta Unzué, even chimes in with a ‘we’ve all been there’. Like a stroppy teenager, Alexia folds her arms over her chest and turns to focus entirely on football, something that she knows she loves and loves her back. They leave her alone for the rest of the training session. 

She even manages to forget about what comes after the first forty-five minutes of the match, sitting comfortably in a stadium that is her version of heaven. 

You, on the other hand, cannot distance yourself from the nerves of performing in no less than ten minutes. 

The players were nice when you accompanied Anya to speak to them, and they spent a good while fumbling their way through English to invite you all to join them tonight at Pacha. You took photos with Messi and Neymar to show your father. 

The outfit, if you can call it that, is tight and could possibly show your entire bum to eight-five thousand Culers tonight if you’re not careful. Silver eyeshadow glistens in the mirror when you peer at your reflection, inspecting the bejewelled bralette and tiny shorts you are wearing. 

Anya and Gio, who both look dazzling in their own silver combinations, tell you that it is time to get your microphones sorted. When you stand in the tunnel, ready to go out, you see that they have laid out a sheet on top of the grass so your heels don’t ruin it. Part of you wishes that you were in a football strip and boots. The music starts before you can get too reminiscent. 

You sing with the same adrenaline you always get, and the crowd becomes a blur in your mind as you lose yourself to the melody. The bass hits your heart just like the lyrics do – especially since this song was written by Anya about her last boyfriend – and you hold back tears as the choreography leads your limbs in an energetic dance that must be entertaining to watch. 

When it finishes, and your chest is rising and falling quickly as you try to catch your breath, Alexia thinks you almost catch her gaping at you. Your eyes seem to be scanning the stands. Maybe you see her. 

Maybe that is why you, in your big, black hoodie and paparazzi-proof baseball cap are sitting in the stands of Estadi Johan Cruyff the very next day. 

Alexia does not point you out to her teammates. You make it clear to all who recognise you that you are trying to be incognito, and either the fans at the stadium have no knowledge of popular culture, or they are granting you your privacy.

She is now the entertainer, shining under the spotlight of the bright sun, a ball at her feet like that is where all balls were made to be. And you watch carefully – she can feel it – but you do not stay long enough for her to even think about approaching you. 

…

2016. Somewhere in the sky between LA and New York. 

This time round, the tour has confirmed your hatred for all plane journeys, hotels, and sold-out concerts. 

You’re dead on the inside, numb to the glitter and sparkles of your life, and your eyes are always halfway to being sealed shut in the deepest slumber humanly possible. 

There are a few things that ease the disdain you have for your career, but none of those compare to the channel you have found that streams Barcelona Femení’s football matches. Your excuse, made to no one other than yourself, is that Manchester United has no women’s team. Of course you’d watch them instead, if you could. 

“This is peak lesbianism,” Gio comments, her fifth time saying the exact same thing, prodding a napping Anya to alert her to your boredom-killer on the flight. You’re glad these planes have wi-fi. “We’re in America, which has all the women’s football in the world, and you still choose to watch your crappy little stream on your cracked iPad.” 

“If you hadn’t decided to jump out at me, the screen would be just fine,” you grumble, transfixed on the way Alexia Putellas dribbles with the ball, turning and passing to Jennifer Hermoso who slots the ball right into the bottom-right corner of the net. The pitch looks damaged, and you really have researched how you can help out the sport, but it is hard to dispute anything the girls say about your crush on an unknown squad member when everyone knows you could get your football fix from the Premier League. 

You’re yet to tell anyone that you have just bought this season’s Barcelona shirt. You’re not sure if you’d be invited on the family ski trip if your father were to find out. 

“Sorry, sorry,” replies Gio, hands raised in the air, a gesture of surrender. In hindsight, your response was clipped. “Didn’t mean to distract you from such an important task. When will you tell us who it is that you fancy? We’ve been waiting for you to come to us, but, fuck me, you’ve got tight lips.” 

“And, before you say it – we’re not nosy. We just care. And we find it cute.” 

“And…” 

“What?” you practically grunt, biting your tongue as a hefty challenge sends Alexia Putellas face-first onto the patchy grass. It makes your heart jump. 

“Well, it’s not like she won’t want you, so make your move.” 

“Just like you made your move on Justin Bieber?” She winces. “We did warn you, babe.” 

“It’s alright,” Anya comforts with a small smile, though you are well aware of how funny she also found the situation. Being in LA, as a celebrity, is always an interesting experience. In Gio’s defence, she did not know about a certain model standing right behind her, and you are fairly sure she had run off to do lines with someone or other earlier. “But, yeah, seriously. Y/n, do you want us to guess?” 

“Go on. Guess.” You smirk, because they’ll never–

Anya’s hand flaps as she puts her privately-educated memory to good use. “What’s-her-face?” she squeals, hand slapping down on her thigh as the name eludes her, the flapping resuming once she remembers. “Alexia Putellas!” 

You rip your eyes from your cracked screen, widened in horror. “How did you know?” you ask, voice a whisper as you swallow your shock. 

“You talk about her all the time. ‘Ooh, she’s the future’ this, ‘watch her grow’ that. Just talk to her. She’ll fancy you back.” 

“She’s not a celebrity. Normal people don’t slide into people’s DMs like we do, and I have no clue whether or not she can speak English,” you reason, having said the same thing to yourself every time your finger hovers on that feature of Instagram. “And I don’t like her? You saw me kissing–”

“God, drop it. You know she kisses anyone with a mouth, and you also know that you’re lying your arse off. Whoever this footballer is, just talk to her. If anything, it’ll be good for you to spend time with someone who isn’t going to drag you right into their own closet.” 

“Closets in LA can be very big,” you say with a sigh, having already received a lecture about the damage-control your publicist always seems to be doing. You don’t really think it’s ‘damage’ if a photo of you enjoying yourself with someone, but your publicity team deems any picture of you with a woman one to be locked away in some encrypted file and never released in the papers. 

…

You: Hola! Congratulations on the win. :)

You cringe so hard, but you send it anyway, your friends leaning over either shoulder as they egg you on, wishing your closet gobbled you whole and spat you out somewhere further away than Narnia.

Alexia, in Barcelona, groans at the sound of her phone buzzing, wondering who on Earth is texting her this late. 

And she drops the device on her face when she sees what the notification is. 

Because it really does not make sense, and she is not used to the idea that women’s footballers could one day fraternise with celebrities like you without feeling out of place. (And she’s had a crush on you for about two years and you’re texting her at midnight to congratulate her.)

You, on the other hand, are gripping onto your phone with trembling hands, holding on for dear life. Anya, who claims her C in A-level Spanish was unjust and incorrect, is brainstorming your next message, adamant that you’ll seem cooler if you display some knowledge of her mother tongue. You don’t tell her that, of course, Alexia’s first language would have been Catalan, because you don’t want it to be obvious that you have done a little bit (a lot) of research. 

Gio tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear for you – a comforting gesture. “Hey,” she says kindly, “what’s the worst that could happen?” 

She tries. 

She fails. 

You have compiled a list within a millisecond. “I don’t know,” you start, but, oh, you do. “She could screenshot the conversation and leak it to Twitter? Or she’s not a lesbian and she is disgusted that I am? She could have a girlfriend? She could think my account’s been hacked and report me and everything’ll be deleted? Or all of the above?!” 

The chat is still open on your phone, but you can’t see past your tidal wave of anxiety. 

“I think you’re just nervous.” Understatement of the century. 

Before you can make a snide remark saying exactly that but to Anya’s face, your message is no longer the only one present. 

“She replied!” you shout, volume a concoction of fear and excitement and a thousand emotions in between. 

Alexia: Gracias por ver :)

“Thanks for watching,” Anya translates. 

You exhale. “Okay. Done. No more.” You ignore both of their facepalms with the sort of blissful ignorance you’re sure only delusional people possess, but it is better to have a healthy heart rate than to understand the lyrics to whatever ballad the two of them have in the works. 

…

“Kiss her.” 

“What?” 

“Just kidding,” Jenni giggles, winking at Alexia and stealing her glass of something-not-too-strong. 

The team has been invited to a party with the men’s team, all because their favourite girl group is back in town and are treating the club like a pit-stop on their way to Madrid for the European-leg of their tour. The album has been in the top ten worldwide ever since it was released.

Alexia looks good tonight, as said by Jenni who thought her wardrobe consisted solely of football strips and Barcelona merchandise, and she revels in her little secret. Your little secret. She hasn’t told anyone that you messaged her two months ago, even if the conversation ended with her response. 

Which is why Jenni is set on teasing Alexia about her non-existent chance with you, especially when you have spent your entire night on the other side of the reception room, deep in conversation with Neymar Jr., who is not shameful about his appreciation for the plunging neckline of your tight dress. He has a girlfriend, but Alexia has seen enough tabloid headlines to know that most famous people don’t care. 

Your glass is always full, though that is your own doing. Something about the way a pair of hazel eyes have been watching you from the minute you walked in makes the air around you feel heavier than it should, and alcohol helps to dull your fluster. 

Anya and Gio have circled back a few times, adding to their persuasion each lap. When you see Gio heading your way, a small smile playing on her lips as someone or other trails behind, you excuse yourself from your conversation with your personal hero (who, sadly, would be able to describe your boobs but not your face if he were asked) and clasp your fingers around her forearm, pulling the two of you even further from a certain women’s footballer on the other side of the room.

“She’s staring,” says Gio in a low voice, leaning in to speak into your ear. “She’s staring at you like she wants to eat you.” 

“I’d let her,” you reply, lips loosened from the champagne you’ve been drinking. “She is beautiful.” 

“She is still staring.” 

You decide to be bold. You stare back, and Alexia is trapped, frozen to the spot. “She is so beautiful.” 

“Now you’re both staring.” 

“I’m going to talk to her.” 

“You should,” she encourages, slurring. The blur might come from your distraction, your drunkenness, or her own intoxication. You don’t care. 

Absently, you nod. “Yeah.” 

She presses her fingertips between your shoulder blades, cold hands making you shiver. “Go. You got this.” 

“Yeah.” 

She pushes you away from her, in Alexia’s direction. Your feet carry you on what feels like an inevitable path. 

And you… walk right past her, out of the door, and into the warm air of the evening to have a smoke instead. 

Behind you, Gio lets out a silent scream, turning right around and giving up on your happiness because what more can she do? And Alexia, who is confused about what just happened and bored of this event anyway, is glad to be given an excuse to leave. 

Except, you are blocking her exit, cigarette pressed to your lips as you inhale the smoke like it is a lifeline. She frowns, lips a tight line of disappointment, really. “¿Tú fumas?” she asks, though she knows both the answer and of your incompetence when it comes to her language. 

You let your eyes meet hers, and Alexia shivers, though she tells herself it is only because it’s November. “Hola,” you reply. 

For some reason, Alexia is drawn in. She steps closer to you, and you don’t have anywhere to go, backed against the wall you are leaning on. You’re drunk, and the cigarette has burned down to a stub of orange and black. She’s also drunk – less so than you – and she has nothing to lose right now. She is no one, in her mind, and you are far from prudish. 

She decides, once she is barely ten centimetres away from you, that your dress is provocative, but it only adds to your existing beauty. You push your chest out, standing up straighter. 

The dance is very still, and very silent, but you can imagine what it feels like to kiss her and you know that she is thinking the same thing. 

“You can, if you want to,” you whisper, hoping she understands. 

Luckily, she does. 

Alexia fumbles her way through the first tentative second, shocked that this is what she is doing, but she finds her footing and relaxes into the taste of champagne and cigarette smoke, the heat of your body sparking a fire within her. You pull her closer, pressing her body into yours, and you are now consumed by desperation. The kiss grows messier, and Alexia’s hands begin to roam, mind lost in a haze of desire. She is explorative but she is gentle, and you gasp into her mouth as her tongue pushes past your lips and a hand settles on the curve of your bum, the other cupping your jaw. 

Briefly, she wonders how many girls you have done this with. You seem experienced. The thought, while a little disturbing, sort of spurs her on, feeding into her competitive nature. This will be unforgettable for her regardless of the outcome because it’s an interesting story to tell, but what about you? Are you even aware of what you’re doing? Are you straight? No, you can’t be. You messaged her, so you started this. She is only… finishing it? 

You sense her distraction, pulling back with a blink and a deep intake of fresh air. She tries to move back, afraid of what comes next, but you don’t let her go, clutching onto the hardened muscles of her arms to hold her in place, ready to kiss her again.

The moment is spoilt by a voice – an English voice – and the theft of your attention. Your eyes, previously hooded and dark, widen as they flit towards the door behind her, terribly upset that your friends have developed the worst timing known to man. Gio shouts again, telling you that it’s time to go. You have to get to Madrid, and the pilot would be incredibly annoyed to hear that the flight was delayed because you were too caught up in snogging a girl you may or may not fancy. 

“We really need to go!” Anya repeats, growing impatient with you as you debate giving up your entire music career. “Like, it is insane how badly you need to get your arse over here to say your goodbyes and then jump in the taxi to the airport with us.” 

“Can it just–”

“No!” they both shout in unison. 

You sigh, looking at Alexia, the proximity prodding at a feeling low in your stomach. She doesn’t squirm under the intensity of your gaze, instead sporting a lazy, blissfully ignorant grin. And you’re about to break her little heart. 

“I have to go,” you say softly, forehead resting on her shoulder as you mumble your words out. You have a duty to your job, or, as Virgil puts it: labor omnia vincit. Work conquers all.

“You have to…?” she tries. 

“Go.” 

“Tiene que irse,” Anya translates, reminding you of her presence (and her much better comprehension of Spanish). “Ahora.” 

“Ah.” Alexia’s hand cups the back of your neck as you raise your head, and she kisses you, though the kiss is short. 

You pat your body down with a sudden haste, wandering past your alcohol-clouded thoughts to remember the location of your ticket, reaching down to grab your clutch from where you’d dropped it on the floor while having a smoke. It pops open as Alexia watches your movements, and you retrieve a pen and a scrunched up ticket (you have no idea why that’s in there, but you are grateful that it is). 

“Here.” You hand her the ticket, pressing it into the palm of her hand and then sealing your goodbye with a quick peck to her lips. 

Then, you are gone, running off at an impressive speed in those heels, chasing your friends into the building. 

She pauses herself in time for a moment, drawing back her grasp on reality as her thoughts still and she breathes in your lingering perfume. And then she blinks – blinks her way back into midnight in Barcelona. 

She opens her palm to see what your gift was, unfolding the piece of paper with an overwhelming curiosity that almost rips it at the edges. 

A boarding pass from London Stansted to Barcelona-El Prat Airport, decorated in fresh, black ink.

Scrawled on top of the flight details is something much more valuable than the entrance into First Class the paper allows. 

Eleven digits. 

Twenty-two-year-old Alexia Putellas, the catalyst for change in women’s football as the world knows it, suddenly sees her future set right out in front of her. Because there you are.

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso #woso fanfics #barca femeni #fc barcelona

[imaginesig]

“If they call me a slut, you know it might be worth if for once”

Lewis Hamilton x singer!reader

yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, user1, y/nhq, and 402,038 others

yourusername: my muse <3

tagged lewishamilton

lewishamilton its an honor love

user1 when will I find someone to call me love

lando.jpg your own jpg account when??

yourusername I'll stick to my day job

user2 anybody else bothered by how quickly she goes from man to man

user3 right? like I swear she's had about 7 "muses" in the past 3 years

user4 she's literally done nothing wrong?? how dare a women date more than 1 person in her life??

carlossainz55 so new music when?

Charles_leclerc the Ferrari playlist needs an update

yourusername update loading 🔄

user5 oh please be a new album!!

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lewishamilton

liked by roscoovescoco, yourusername, user6, and 183,829 others

lewishamilton: race weekend with my loves

tagged: mercadesamgf1, roscoelovescoco, yourusername

landonorris interesting order

yourusername we all know Roscoe is the real star here

roscoelovescoco listen to the lady 🙌

mercadesmhf1 we love having the Hamilton family in the paddock

yourusername ahhh love to be there!!

lewishamilton 💚

georgerussell63 always a good time with these two in the house

yourusername ahhhh Georgie 🫶🫶

user1 "Georgie" 🥹😭

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tmz_offical

liked by user9, user1, user3, and 937,273 others

tmz_offical: just days after the end of the season, f1 driver Lewis Hamilton is spotted out with young girlfriend Y/n L/n. The couple is notorious for keeping their privacy, making paparazzi pictures a rare instance. Click the link in our bio to see what else was taken during their night out on the town.

tagged lewishamilton, yourusername

user1 no wonder they keep private, I would too if ended up trapped in a relationship with a slut like her

user2 didn't she and Dylan O'Brian break up right before they got together? Didn't think he rebound guy would last this long

user3 I could never imagine dating someone that much older than me

user4 fr someone tell her to take it down a notch, her sluttiness is showing

User8 the one sided hate is mid boggling

user5 the negativity is DEFINING

user6 right, y'all can't stand to see a women happy, healthy, and unbothered

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y/nupdates

liked by lewishamilton, user5, user9, and 749,934 more

y/nupdates: Y/n seen outside the studio with her producer after radio silence all winter!!

tagged yourusername

user1 she's cooking

user2 she's entering her reputation era I can feel it

user3 fr, after that one tmz post blows up and her comments are flooded with negativity, she locked herself away with her love, and is now seen for the first time in awhile leaving the studio

user4 I CANT HANDLE THIS RN

user5 not the slut trying for a comeback

user6 how about you lead by example? Leave and don't come back 🫶

user8 you know the records gonna slap when @/producer sprinkled her magic

user9 I need them and Taylor+Jack to release something

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yourusername

liked by user5, lewishamilton, y/nhq, and 394,028 others

yourusername: "Slut!" out now on all streaming platforms!! The rest of the album, "Amor Omnia Vincit" out this Friday!

when I originally sat down to create this new album I didn't image I'd write half the songs that made the final cut, but I did. This has been a very therapeutic experience for me.

Thank you to this album, my amazing team, and my lovely muse for keeping me going in the difficult time <3

tagged: y/nhq

lewishamilton you are so Shawn Hunter coded

lewishamilton I love you dear

yourusername I love you too darling

user1 they are so domestic I'm crying 🤭😭

user2 lets all start a thread of our fav lyrics from "Slut!"

user3 "if I'm all dressed up, they might as well be looking at us" WE KNOW THIS COUPLE ALWAYS BRING FIRE FITS

user4 very obvious but "if they call me a slut, you know it might be worth it for once," just hits so hard, like this is an issue she's dealt with for so long but Lewis makes it all better bc their relationship trumps everything

user5 piggy backing off of @/user4 's reasoning, "the sticks and stones they throw froze mid air"

user6 "IN A WORLD OF BOYS HES A GENTLEMAN" 🔛🔝

user7 I'm still not very her admitting that all the negavity around her dating has affected her so bad that she told Lewis "I said it might blow up in your pretty face"

scuderiaferarri we will not apologize for the people we'll become when this drops ‼️

Charles_leclerc we've always been #1 y/n stans

lewishamilton you red fuckers can take two steps back that's my title

carlossainz55 I thought you were her muse?

lewishamilton I'm both

user8 ok possessive king

youruserame for me and me only 🥰

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lewishamilton

liked by georgerussell64, your username, user1, and 789,739 others

lewishamilton: SO, SO, SO PROUD OF YOU LOVE!! Watching you work through a rough patch with such grace was beautiful. Thank you for allowing me to be apart of it and listen to these songs+more. I'll be your muse forever if you'll have me <3

tagged yourusername, y/nhq

yourusername forever and always <3

lewishamilton <3

user1 that water look very ~aquamarine~ to anyone

user2 he def knew what he was doing

lewishamilton I had a message to send 🤷🏾‍♂️

user2 LMAOOO HES SO PETTY

yourusername sassy man epidemic isn't a joke

user3 I love that she left like people wanted and wrote a whole song to shut down the hater but also put her and Lewis's relationship on the pedestal it deserves

producer such a sweet album!! Some of the best love songs out there!!

Charles_leclerc Vigilante Shit is my new pre-prix anthem

yourusername watch out @/maxverstappen1

maxverstappen this is where the dutch anthem falls silent 😔

carlossainz55 wasn't ready for Dress

yourusername but...

carlossainz55 its my fav

user4 I love that lewis posted for the whole album when Y/n didn't, but she's replying to comments in his section when he isn't

user5 they really are made for each other huh

roscoelovescoco amazing work mom!!

user5 I will never get over the mom

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yourusername

liked by landonorris, Charles_leclerc, user5, and 937,039 others

yourusername: surprise!! Since this album taught me what it was like to write and create in such an intamate space with very few people/outide influence I wanted to celebrate it with 3 small shows in Monaco, London, and Ottawa!

tickets on sale at 12 pm eastern this friday, see ya then ;)

tagged y/nhq

landonorris do friends get discounts??

yourusername everyone on the grid plus any serious significant others get VIP entry courtesy of me and my team 💖😘

y/nhq we'll be reaching out soon to select the show

lilymhe you don't understand how excited this makes me!!

yourusername well I couldn’t celebrate without my girls (and their men too ig 🙄🤚)

oscarpiastri thanks a lot y/n

alexalbon anybody else feeling loved??

lewishamilton completely 🫶

user1 this will start world war 3 I can feel it

user2 this is the eras tour all over again

user3 except that was selling stadiums, these are small venues

user4 any f1 driver want to link up for a show?? you'll never have to speak to me ever again

user5 I regret to inform you babe, but I think this is the reason she said serious significant others...

user6 official tour soon?? Please mother??

yourusername oh so very soon...

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lewishamilton

liked by your username, georgerussel64, landonorris, and 379,268 others

lewishamilton "got lovestruck went straight to my head" <3

tagged yourusername

user1 crying throwing up

user2 quoting her song?? that's about him?? I'll be resting my eyes on the highway if anybody needs me

user3 my toaster looks like a fun bath bomb

yourusername "got lovesick all over my bed" <3

landonorris beautiful show, beautiful couple 🧡

yourusername 🧡

scuderiaferrari maybe we're colorblind but that doesn't look like Mercedes green

mercadesamgf1 watch your back

georgerussell64 👀

georgerussell64 slayed so hard

yourusername an honor from the meme king?? I'm not worthy

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yourusername

liked by Charles_leclerc, user9, lewishamilton, and 930,393 others

yourusername thank you to everyone who came out to a show this weekend!! I had a blast sining new stuff, covers, and old pieces with you all- the love I experienced was unreal!! I cannot wait to see what happens in the future 💖

To all those close to me, our relationships mean the absolute world!! Special love to Lewis who held my hand through my darkest time, showed me what a true relationship was, and gave me a perfect little boy (I love you Roscoe). Darling, its been a wonderful experience being with you <3

tagged y/nhq, landojpg

lewishamilton love you so much angel <3

georgerussell64 definitely gave me and Carmen the night of our lives!!

alexalbon the show was so amazing I almost forgot you flirted with my gf in the invitation

yourusername stay mad

lilymhe 🥵

Roscoelovescoco can I come next time??

yourusername I'll see what I can do...

landjpg thank you for photo creddits and well as the opportunity to photograph these unique shows

yourusername you didn't not dissapoint 👏👏 thank you for doing it

Charles_leclerc I had an amazing time!!!

carlossainze55 you should hear him try to speak, voice complelty gone

yourusername that's the kind of energy we all need

comments have been limited

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton smau #Lewis Hamilton x reader #mercades imagine #mercades x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #f1 imagines #formula 1 imagines #roscoe hamilton

[havingapoemwithyou]

Photo Studio by Ahlam Bsharat tr. by Omnia Amin

#Ahlam Bsharat #poetry #poem #🇵🇸

[declanlikesmusic]

Today's Listens: Episode 004

August 8th & 9th, 2023

These past couple of days have been busy as fuck and I've neither had the time to listen to that many albums in each single day, nor write about them in those same days, so I thought I'd compact the two of them into one for a quick double episode! I listened to a variety as usual for as little time as I had and really enjoyed myself as usual, so here's what I heard!

Ski Mask the Slump God – STOKELEY (2018)

I kicked off the first day with simultaneously one of the most underrated yet underutilised rappers of the current day. I've always loved Ski Mask the Slump God's quirky yet menacingly skilled style and there are times where either he's punching under his weight or his label is doing that for him. (Bring back the original BEWARE THE BOOK OF ELI or I will take action.) I'm thankful to return to this particular debut studio album to end up finding a lot to love. Nuketown is the obvious big bomb highlight from the hype alone, but even the lesser appreciated cuts like the melodically sung So High and Save Me Pt 2 are fun jams, plus big hits like Faucet Failure, LA LA and Foot Fungus are great too. The whole thing is very consistently enjoyable, only really weak in a few notable spots. If you're a fan of trap rap, I can't not recommend this one.

7.6 / 10

Highlights: So High, Nuketown, Foot Fungus, LA LA, Save Me Pt 2, Get Geeked, Reborn to Rebel, Faucet Failure

Meteorological Agency – Night Coverage (2019)

Next one took me a long time to get to, I was pulled away to deal with other things after watching Jacksfilms livestream that day, so I had to wait until after my poker game that night to cover this half-hour signalwave album. This one's very sweet, lovely to hear and melodic, but it hardly exceeds more than that for me most times. I hate to kind of dismiss it like that, because it was still a good, solid time, but I was seeing a lot of praise for this out of other broken transmission albums and I hardly can say I walked away with too much compared to those who did. Still, good time, I'm keen on recommending it, just not particularly high priority.

7.0 / 10

Highlights: Indigo, Melancholy, Violet, Dream, Landscape, Rest

my bloody valentine – glider (1990)

I wanted to blaze through shorter listens because I didn't want this first day to be hardly anything, so why not throw an EP into the mix from the legendary my bloody valentine, though I had to listen to this through their EPs compilation. This was a very, very good time. It kicks off with soon from the end of their loveless album, which grew on me upon this EP and the rest from the strange title track to the almost great closer were a very pleasant time. If you want more shoegaze EPs in your life, this is a must-try among others of theirs.

7.4 / 10

Highlights: Soon, Off Your Face

HKE – OMNIA (2016)

Not gonna lie, I was kind of breezing by these albums on the first day, especially this one which closed it out, but at least it made me realise this was a little better than I remembered. HKE is a persistently bitter nutjob, I don't want to publicly endorse his music without telling you to proceed with caution, because this man's history in the vaporwave world is fucking wild. This record was ripe from the rise of the hardvapour subgenre and it's a decent time. I was kinda falling out of love with it and its persistent ambient interludes by the midway point, but once I reached OMNI, I was having a great, great time. Definitely one to enjoy whilst learning about hardvapour's messy, shitty and complicated history and its place in vapor as a whole.

7.1 / 10

Highlights: Omni, Requiem, Restore, Awake

SEA OF DOGS – Prelude (2018)

Now it's the second day of the two and I've spent all of it in the morning and afternoon being way too busy to be at home and sitting down for any of these albums. By the time it was finally evening and dinner time though, I had to kick it off with one of my favourite producers of all time. hyphyskazerbox, known as SEA OF DOGS here, put out a Prelude EP in 2018 that perfectly bridges the gap between her releases at the time. This was delightfully strange, a complete warping of music without being too plunderphonic-heavy, really genre-heavy in that matter. If you're going into this one, don't expect anything and you will receive everything, a little bit. The last two tracks are especially grounded into being more lyrical cuts with the former especially taking dominance with its atmosphere. This is another great time from an incredibly varied discography. I'd say check it out, but also know that there's others from her that don't sound quite like this that are even better.

8.2 / 10

Highlights: Hearing Her Name in Static, Warmed by the Rain and Sunny Thoughts of June, Beekeeper

Pendulum – Hold Your Colour (2005)

Finally, I've been waiting to go over this one for years now, the pioneering and genre-defining drum and bass prodigies known from down under as Pendulum with their mid-2000s debut album. I was worried I wouldn't love this one as much as I wanted to, but to no surprises at the end, this was actually a very great time. What's especially amazing to me is how basically this album compresses what would go down as several different subgenres for DnB into one cohesive record, from dancefloor DnB to liquid DnB and all sorts of others! Highly, highly recommend this one; I'm sure to EDM heads, this one is a stone-cold classic and it deserves that position greatly.

7.8 / 10

Highlights: Slam, Plasticworld, Fasten Your Seatbelt, Out Here, Hold Your Colour, Streamline

VECTOR GRAPHICS – DESTINE (2015)

This one's another EP, but just like with glider and Prelude, this one is not to be underestimated or undermined. Far from it actually, it's my favourite EP that I've heard since starting this series! VECTOR GRAPHICS, now known these days as .CASTING, is a prodigy of a slowly growing subgenre of vaporwave known as VHS Pop. There's a bunch of definitions out there, but the one that seems to be on the rise is classic vaporwave-infused hip-hop instrumentals with loud VHS fuzz. We can absolutely thank this EP for helping to popularise that sound, as its title track is often regarded as one of the best vaporwave songs of all time. I'm completely on the hype train with that, I especially think that the second of the three tracks sampled in this is completely transcendent. It's the longest and best cut on here by far, but every single track from before and after it is also a consistently great time. This EP is excellent and if I'd recommend anything in this post more than any other, it's absolutely this one.

8.7 / 10

Highlights: SURFING, DESTINE, ALBA83

Joy Division – Substance (1988)

I always like to do a slightly special record for every ten ratings that I do, even if milestones like this are as insignificant as 1330. For that, I tackled probably the last Joy Division record I will cover, their '77 to '80 compilation of non-album singles titled Substance. I've never been fully enamoured with their pioneering post-punk sound; I understand that it's for way more people other than me, but at least it was very fascinating to see this band evolve from a slightly amateur punk rock sound to a completely innovative one. The second half is especially good and consistent, but not to the level of great for me that I'd love. Almost every track here I felt that I should love and I very clearly almost do, but there's always something holding me back from that. It could be Ian Curtis's vocal styles, it could be some of the instruments played, it could even be the troubling recording quality of the late '70s as usual. The only track where everything truly clicks for me is the closing Love Will Tear Us Apart, which is very obviously their best here. I still think this compilation is very good and worth a listen if you're especially a fan of post-punk.

6.9 / 10

Highlights: Transmission, She's Lost Control, Atmosphere, Love Will Tear Us Apart

Massive Attack – Mezzanine (1998)

To finally close out this double special, I went to one of my favourite albums of all time for a proper rerating that I felt was undermining, when I last tried it. Massive Attack's Mezzanine is an incredible '90s record and my absolute favourite in the trip hop sound. I think the reason why I used to score it lower than I would've liked to is because what makes this record so excellent is often so understated that you'd have to really pay attention to find it transcendent most times. It's so eerie and urban, it feels dusty at points, but its highs are grimacing and haunting. I struggle to find new words for it, especially its first run of tracks from the incredible opener to the underrated interlude-type cut. Just dive in and absolutely check this one out if you haven't already.

8.8 / 10

Highlights: Angel, Risingson, Teardrop, Inertia Creeps, Exchange, Mezzanine, Group Four

Finally, I've got this two-in-one special right out of the way. This one had to be super delayed, I'm finishing this on the morning of the 10th, but I'm still very glad to be able to push this one out, especially as I'm freed from my job for a little bit. I hope you like what I've mentioned here and I'll see you shortly after for the next one!

#today's listens #music #music community #music review #music recommendation #ski mask the slump god #trap #trap rap #soundcloud rapper #pop rap #rap #rap music #hip hop #signalwave #brokentransmission #vaporwave music #vaporwave #my bloody valentine #shoegaze #dream pop #noise pop #hardvapour #idm #sea of dogs #post industrial #industrial music #electronic music #experimental music #plunderphonics #singer songwriter

[mariedemedicis]

hi, im the anon who asked about the mermaid ring. after a bit of digging i found out the ring is most likely from omnia studios. i found other pinterest posts of the ring which sites them as a source and they do have a picture of it on their websites. the bad news is that they only make small batches of ready to wear rings and the ring isnt available to buy now, though the shop do make custom orders, they also have and instagram where you can see the ring more clearly.

the ring is called Arianna and was one of the studios first designs, heres the link to their website if your interested. https://omniastudios.com/

oh that's really cool! great job sleuthing!

maybe they'd consider bringing it back if there's enough demand?

#asks #answers #anonymous #omniastudios #mermaid ring

[thegothicalice]

Merry Mabon 🍂🔮Lacemade dress dyed by me, hair clips by me, belt thrifted, bat necklace by Omnia Studios, vampire earrings by The Deadly Stake, boots Fluevog.

#ootd #whimsigoth #mabon #flower hair clips #Lacemade #fluevog #the deadly stake #fairy fashion #Omnia studios

[queenofpatterns]

Athame Dagger Earrings by Omnia Studios

#earrings #jewelry #omnia studios #Athame Dagger

[dnf-fic-recs]

maybe this is too specific, but any fic recs for dnf where they share each others clothes? (bonus if you can find any dream wearing georges clothes tropes, but vice versa is good too :D i have such a hard time finding these :pp thank u in advance!)

Cover Me In Debris Except It's Cover Me In Your Clothes by xaccier

He’s a quiet shoulder to cry on in the middle of the night after a nightmare. He’s the other half of tangled legs in a shared bed. He’s the head tucked under Dream’s chin, the laughter bubbling through a dark apartment when the lights turn off. He is the light, Dream thinks. Dream knows that George is amazing. He’s the perfect person, the perfect partner, the perfect friend. But gods, he looks perfect too.

— five times dream catches george wearing his clothes and loves it

Red Glory by tbhyourelame - Explicit

Dream really, really hates when anyone else wears his letterman. Yet when the boy he flirts with between cheap booze and loud music looks cold enough on his walk home to slug it over his shoulders, cold enough to be kissed, even—he can't help himself.

He looks better than all the sweet-tongued, blonde girls who try to saunter off with it after games. The maroon fabric brings out the subtle pink in his lips and high cheekbones. His hands disappear beneath the striped cuffs.

Dream’s heart thumps erratically at the sight of George in his clothes, in his letterman—unlocking something deep in him with a gentle click.

- written for a secret santa collection

amor omnia vincit by art3mismh

They say to expect the unexpected, but in what world was George supposed to anticipate a chance meeting in a coffee shop leading to the discovery of his soulmate?

Or, Dream is a soldier from ancient Greece, who has been frozen in time as a statue for over two thousand years. Enter George, the only one capable of restoring his humanity.

bit of a stretch, but dream does gift george a hoodie in one of the chapters of this fic:

studio 404 by quartzfia

With zero hesitation he pushed the door upon, eyes darting to the figure there as he realized it was very much not empty. George found himself completely enthralled with what he saw. He always had a thing for tappers, didn't he?

Or in which, George left everything behind him to pursue his dreams of dance in New York City, and meets two mysterious people he grows too attached to in too little time.

#dnf #dreamnotfound #dnf fics #dreamnotfound fics #dnf fic recs #dreamnotfound fic recs #recommended by holiday #asks #anon

[tamerashry]

Ahl Masr Hospital - Our missed ones from Tamer Ashry on Vimeo.

Ahl Masr Foundation - مؤسسة أهل مصر Synergy Advertising Chairman: Tamer Mursi CEO: Hassan Kamal HR Director: Heba Sadat Chief Creative Officer: Mohamed Nassef Creative Director: Sam Khafagy Senior Copywriter: Abdelrhman Fahmy Art Director: Mariam Al Soso Art Director: Bassem A. Sattar Senior Graphic Designer: Omnia Hesham Copywriter: Nabil Samy Calligraphy: AbdelRahman M. Ali Agency Producer: Mohamed Sherif Assistant Agency Producer: Nour Elghazawy 2nd. Assistant Agency Producer: Amr Etman Chief Business Development Officer: Mohamed Aboul Enein Account Manager: Rowan Z. Abdelhamid Senior Account Executive: Amr Mursi Director: Tamer Ashry DOP: Mohamed Tarek Deraz Production Designer: Hend Haider Stylist: Raghda Helal Music & Sound Design: Halawanymusic Studios - Moustapha El Halawany Singer: Rana Haggag Mohamed Production House: Hama Film Productions Executive Producer: Hesham Soliman Head of Production: Ahmed Sobhy Production Manager: Islam Maghawri Producer: Amira El Sharkawi Line Producer: Mahmoud ElDesouky Assistant Producer: Mohamed Ashraf Location Manager: Sayid Aly Post Producer: Nancy Hamdy 1st. Assistant Director: Sherif Ashour 2nd. Assistant Director: Donia A. Salah 3rd. Assistant Director: Nada Hady Assistant Production Designer: Nada Abdel Maguid - Nada Mounir Assistant Stylist: Mostafa Cheetos Sound Engineer: Ahmed Adnan Focus Puller: Mohamed Saber Gaffer: Eshta - Ali Salim Grip: Sameh Gamal Freefly: Ahmed Lababedy Video Assist: Wael El-Sayed Casting: Challenge Casting Agency VFX & Post Production: The Barber Shop Managing Director: Osama Bendary Editor: Ahmed Tarabily Colorist: Mahmoud Ali Photographer: Sameh Elsebaay

[cantillat-moved]

@ad-simul 1 and 2 buckle my shoe /shot and 14, 15, and 7?

1. Which muse(s) is/are your favourite(s)?

I don’t think I have a favorite muse per say, but currently my most active ones are the Emiyas. I have been considering roleplaying as Shirou and Archer since circa 2013 give or take, but at the time the seething hate towards Shirou thanks to the studio DEEN adaptation butchering his personality made me afraid – I’m pretty sure this is a feeling that Umineko fans can relate. It was before the release of the UBW anime – in fact, the DEEN version of UBW was the one floating around. Another muse that was dear to my heart back when it had his own blog is Narukami. I loved the original game when I first played, but when I finally got the Vita version I was in a similar headspace : I was moving from one of the largest cities in the world back to my hometown, a place with tons of fog and my parents’ place is right next to three communications towers. You can pretty much hear “Who’s there?” playing during raining days. And, of course, Snoopy. One of my former classmates says she recalls me liking Snoopy since my daycare center days so I’m like… Fan of him since I was 2 years old? Technically speaking that’s the longest I’ve been fan of anything lmao (and everyone likes a fluffy mascot).

2. Which muse(s) do you wish had more interactions?

So many to be honest. Kiritsugu has been just chilling, Waver and Gray are good beans too. I also wished my Code: Realize muses had more interactions but I understand they are very niche. Some of the muses in my new secret menu are in there because they seldom got any interaction and some are new and I’d like to take them for a spin. I also have promised myself to try to have more interactions with my OCs.

14. What is your favourite fandom to write in? Why?

I love the Fate fandom and its universe. It is also pretty compatible with crossovers for anything that happens in the real world. Persona? Sure, the Palaces, Metaverse and the Midnight Channel could be forms of Reality Marbles for example. Madoka Magica? Well, Kyubei could be a foreign entity up to no good. Fatal Frame? Just look at how often ghosts show up in the works. So on and so forth, all we need is to sit down and brainstorm a bit.

15. What is a fandom you wish to write in one day?

Right now I don’t think I have any particular fandom I’ve been eyeing. Maybe something niche like the long dead Shadow Hearts or Phantasy Star.

7. Do you have crossover verses for the muses on your blog?

…Puyo. I do have a Fate AU for Snoopy as a Servant (he is a Ruler, but he can also manifest as a Rider in his Ace form fyi). Believe me: if I don’t currently have a crossover, I’d love to make one.   I do have a Persona 5 AU for Shirou and a prototype Pokemon verse for him. I also have a fully fleshed-out Pokemon and Fate AUs for Hajime. I also have an Opera Omnia verse for Rufus (aka: the Dissidia verse so he can interact with any FF muse). Give me ‘em AUs. AUs, crossovers, verses, I love them.

#ad simul #. meme reply

[stylists-supporting-stylists]

Wild Orchid . . . . . Reposted from @stylinartistmateace (at Omnia Salon Studios) https://www.instagram.com/p/CfSAGv2p3mO/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[penoabl]

FAUNE

Hae duae provinciae bello quondam piratico catervis mixtae praedonum a Servilio pro consule missae sub iugum factae sunt vectigales. et hae quidem regiones velut in prominenti terrarum lingua positae ob orbe eoo monte Amano disparantur.

Ex turba vero imae sortis et paupertinae in tabernis aliqui pernoctant vinariis, non nulli velariis umbraculorum theatralium latent, quae Campanam imitatus lasciviam Catulus in aedilitate sua suspendit omnium primus; aut pugnaciter aleis certant turpi sono fragosis naribus introrsum reducto spiritu concrepantes; aut quod est studiorum omnium maximum ab ortu lucis ad vesperam sole fatiscunt vel pluviis, per minutias aurigarum equorumque praecipua vel delicta scrutantes.

Et eodem impetu Domitianum praecipitem per scalas itidem funibus constrinxerunt, eosque coniunctos per ampla spatia civitatis acri raptavere discursu. iamque artuum et membrorum divulsa conpage superscandentes corpora mortuorum ad ultimam truncata deformitatem velut exsaturati mox abiecerunt in flumen.

Haec ubi latius fama vulgasset missaeque relationes adsiduae Gallum Caesarem permovissent, quoniam magister equitum longius ea tempestate distinebatur, iussus comes orientis Nebridius contractis undique militaribus copiis ad eximendam periculo civitatem amplam et oportunam studio properabat ingenti, quo cognito abscessere latrones nulla re amplius memorabili gesta, dispersique ut solent avia montium petiere celsorum.

Et quia Montius inter dilancinantium manus spiritum efflaturus Epigonum et Eusebium nec professionem nec dignitatem ostendens aliquotiens increpabat, qui sint hi magna quaerebatur industria, et nequid intepesceret, Epigonus e Lycia philosophus ducitur et Eusebius ab Emissa Pittacas cognomento, concitatus orator, cum quaestor non hos sed tribunos fabricarum insimulasset promittentes armorum si novas res agitari conperissent.

Ergo ego senator inimicus, si ita vultis, homini, amicus esse, sicut semper fui, rei publicae debeo. Quid? si ipsas inimicitias, depono rei publicae causa, quis me tandem iure reprehendet, praesertim cum ego omnium meorum consiliorum atque factorum exempla semper ex summorum hominum consiliis atque factis mihi censuerim petenda.

Sed si ille hac tam eximia fortuna propter utilitatem rei publicae frui non properat, ut omnia illa conficiat, quid ego, senator, facere debeo, quem, etiamsi ille aliud vellet, rei publicae consulere oporteret?

Haec igitur lex in amicitia sanciatur, ut neque rogemus res turpes nec faciamus rogati. Turpis enim excusatio est et minime accipienda cum in ceteris peccatis, tum si quis contra rem publicam se amici causa fecisse fateatur. Etenim eo loco, Fanni et Scaevola, locati sumus ut nos longe prospicere oporteat futuros casus rei publicae. Deflexit iam aliquantum de spatio curriculoque consuetudo maiorum.

Itaque tum Scaevola cum in eam ipsam mentionem incidisset, exposuit nobis sermonem Laeli de amicitia habitum ab illo secum et cum altero genero, C. Fannio Marci filio, paucis diebus post mortem Africani. Eius disputationis sententias memoriae mandavi, quas hoc libro exposui arbitratu meo; quasi enim ipsos induxi loquentes, ne 'inquam' et 'inquit' saepius interponeretur, atque ut tamquam a praesentibus coram haberi sermo videretur.

Accenderat super his incitatum propositum ad nocendum aliqua mulier vilis, quae ad palatium ut poposcerat intromissa insidias ei latenter obtendi prodiderat a militibus obscurissimis. quam Constantina exultans ut in tuto iam locata mariti salute muneratam vehiculoque inpositam per regiae ianuas emisit in publicum, ut his inlecebris alios

Hae duae provinciae bello quondam piratico catervis mixtae praedonum a Servilio pro consule missae sub iugum factae sunt vectigales. et hae quidem regiones velut in prominenti terrarum lingua positae ob orbe eoo monte Amano disparantur.

Ex turba vero imae sortis et paupertinae in tabernis aliqui pernoctant vinariis, non nulli velariis umbraculorum theatralium latent, quae Campanam imitatus lasciviam Catulus in aedilitate sua suspendit omnium primus; aut pugnaciter aleis certant turpi sono fragosis naribus introrsum reducto spiritu concrepantes; aut quod est studiorum omnium maximum ab ortu lucis ad vesperam sole fatiscunt vel pluviis, per minutias aurigarum equorumque praecipua vel delicta scrutantes.

Et eodem impetu Domitianum praecipitem per scalas itidem funibus constrinxerunt, eosque coniunctos per ampla spatia civitatis acri raptavere discursu. iamque artuum et membrorum divulsa conpage superscandentes corpora mortuorum ad ultimam truncata deformitatem velut exsaturati mox abiecerunt in flumen.

Haec ubi latius fama vulgasset missaeque relationes adsiduae Gallum Caesarem permovissent, quoniam magister equitum longius ea tempestate distinebatur, iussus comes orientis Nebridius contractis undique militaribus copiis ad eximendam periculo civitatem amplam et oportunam studio properabat ingenti, quo cognito abscessere latrones nulla re amplius memorabili gesta, dispersique ut solent avia montium petiere celsorum.

Et quia Montius inter dilancinantium manus spiritum efflaturus Epigonum et Eusebium nec professionem nec dignitatem ostendens aliquotiens increpabat, qui sint hi magna quaerebatur industria, et nequid intepesceret, Epigonus e Lycia philosophus ducitur et Eusebius ab Emissa Pittacas cognomento, concitatus orator, cum quaestor non hos sed tribunos fabricarum insimulasset promittentes armorum si novas res agitari conperissent.

Ergo ego senator inimicus, si ita vultis, homini, amicus esse, sicut semper fui, rei publicae debeo. Quid? si ipsas inimicitias, depono rei publicae causa, quis me tandem iure reprehendet, praesertim cum ego omnium meorum consiliorum atque factorum exempla semper ex summorum hominum consiliis atque factis mihi censuerim petenda.

Sed si ille hac tam eximia fortuna propter utilitatem rei publicae frui non properat, ut omnia illa conficiat, quid ego, senator, facere debeo, quem, etiamsi ille aliud vellet, rei publicae consulere oporteret?

Haec igitur lex in amicitia sanciatur, ut neque rogemus res turpes nec faciamus rogati. Turpis enim excusatio est et minime accipienda cum in ceteris peccatis, tum si quis contra rem publicam se amici causa fecisse fateatur. Etenim eo loco, Fanni et Scaevola, locati sumus ut nos longe prospicere oporteat futuros casus rei publicae. Deflexit iam aliquantum de spatio curriculoque consuetudo maiorum.

Itaque tum Scaevola cum in eam ipsam mentionem incidisset, exposuit nobis sermonem Laeli de amicitia habitum ab illo secum et cum altero genero, C. Fannio Marci filio, paucis diebus post mortem Africani. Eius disputationis sententias memoriae mandavi, quas hoc libro exposui arbitratu meo; quasi enim ipsos induxi loquentes, ne 'inquam' et 'inquit' saepius interponeretur, atque ut tamquam a praesentibus coram haberi sermo videretur.

Accenderat super his incitatum propositum ad nocendum aliqua mulier vilis, quae ad palatium ut poposcerat intromissa insidias ei latenter obtendi prodiderat a militibus obscurissimis. quam Constantina exultans ut in tuto iam locata mariti salute muneratam vehiculoque inpositam per regiae ianuas emisit in publicum, ut his inlecebris alios

#faune

[tarditardi]

Roby B, così è nata "The Fairy Lake" (D:Side / Jaywork)

Roby B ci ha raccontato com'è nato  il suo nuovo singolo "The Fairy Lake" che esce su Jaywork, per la precisione è D:Side.

 E' veramente un "treno" che non si ferma mai,  il tuo nuovo singolo… Ma tu come lo definiresti?

"The Fairy Lake" nasce come tributo ad un luogo magico situato a Vedelago, in provincia di Treviso… Il lago delle fate appunto. Un'azienda ittituristica costruita e gestita dai miei due amici nonché grandi dj produttori Lady Brian e Igor S. Sin dalla sua nascita, nel 2021, avevo l'intenzione di creare un brano e chiamarlo così e alla fine l'ho realizzato con qualche anno di ritardo.Lo definirei un "trip ipnotico"… un po' ti fa viaggiare, un po' ti fa ballare.

Com'è andata la produzione? Hai collaborato con altri professionisti, artisti o hai fatto tutto da solo?

Come nel 95% delle mie produzioni, ho fatto tutto da solo nel mio studio e devo ammettere di averci messo un bel po' prima di trovare la giusta ispirazione nonostante avessi un'idea ben definita in testa. Anche la parte vocale sussurrata che si sente nel break è fatta da me, pur se modificata nella tonalità. Mi piace sviluppare le mie idee che sono in continua evoluzione, per poi verificarne il risultato finale in pista… vedere che quando metto i miei pezzi in discoteca la gente li balla e li apprezza, è per me molto rinfrancante.

Ci racconti chi sei dal punto di vista musicale?

Sono una persona molto semplice a cui piace mettere in musica le proprie emozioni e le cose che mi danno ispirazione, nulla di più. Mi sento veramente me stesso solo quando sono in studio e dietro alla mia console in discoteca.

Quali saranno secondo te le tendenze musicali del prossimo futuro?

Noto con piacere che, grazie anche a brani come Aria di Argy e Omnia, si sta sdoganando la techno melodica anche in locali dove mai avresti immaginato di poterla ascoltare e ballare. Molto bene, avanti così! Magari cambia qualcosa a livello di dancefloor in questo strano paese!

///

COS'E' JAYWORK MUSIC GROUP

Jaywork Music Group è presente ed attiva sul mercato discografico dal 1998. Dal 2011 Luca Facchini, dj e produttore, ha acquisito il marchio e tutto il catalogo trasferendolo a Ferrara per proseguirne l'attività discografica. Dal 2018 Luca Peruzzi diventa A&R delle Label di Jaywork e gestisce il gruppo con Luca Facchini. Jaywork Music vanta all'attivo la produzione di numerose Hit tra le quali il progetto "2Black" con la notissima "Waves of Luv", che ricalca il grande successo del brano musicale "In alto mare" di Loredana Bertè.

Jaywork Music attraverso le sue etichette discografiche si propone di dare spazio e scoprire nuovi talenti emergenti in Italia e non solo, essendo proiettata nel futuro ed alla costante ricerca di contenuti innovativi. Jaywork Music dispone di numerose Sub-Labels che abbracciano vari generi e stili musicali, dalla musica Italiana alla musica Dance. "Se siete dei produttori e state cercando un etichetta discografica sempre in evoluzione, Jaywork è la vostra scelta migliore", spiegano Luca Facchini e Luca Peruzzi.